


No Rest For the Weary

by YoshiStack



Category: Code Lyoko
Genre: Gen, This boy needs a NAP, Workaholic Jeremy Belpois, hurt/comfortish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-15
Updated: 2019-09-15
Packaged: 2020-10-18 19:57:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20644814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YoshiStack/pseuds/YoshiStack
Summary: So much to do.And not nearly enough time to do it all.





	No Rest For the Weary

**Author's Note:**

> Hoping this gets a little more notice here than it has on ff.net so far. Maybe that's selfish of me, but whatever at this point. I don't write a lot of CL lately (Not that most of it is on my Ao3... maybe I should fix that), so forgive me for wanting a little attention on it when I do.
> 
> Wrote this as a vent piece the other night, partially because I haven't written anything for fun in month and... actually mostly that. College is stressful guys, please save me.

His room is nearly silent save for the soft clicks and clacks of his keyboard as his fingers race across it. His gaze is focused, and movements precise, just as they have to be. He has to be even more meticulous than ever about his work. There's too much at stake for him to make any errors at this point.

His fingers still and clicking noises stop as he narrows his eyes at the line in front of him. He sweeps over it at least three times before nodding his head, then hits enter. The program closes itself and disappears off his screen, out of sight, but far from out of mind. He's sure he'll check it over again later tonight to be certain of it's status, but at least it's done. It's progress.

But it's only one of the many things on the list he has to get done; a list of far too many things, if he's being honest.

The Skids shields need some tweaking.

The Replika detection program needs some work too.

He's not even sure where to _start _on the program for locating and saving William, and then there's trying to find Franz Hopper and-

So much to do.

Not nearly enough time to do it all.

Jeremy lets out a long, lengthy sigh as he leans back on his chair. His back cracks a bit, and then he rolls his neck before letting his head fall back against the edge of his chair. He stares up towards the ceiling, and he finally notices how strained they feel. He closes them and pulls off his glasses to rub his face.

Everything hurts. His head, his neck, his back, his hands—especially his hands. His hands feel as though they're on fire. His fingers throb with protest as he stretches them out, and he winces as a painful pop goes through his right wrist.

He's rubbing at his wrist when he hears a knock at his door. He lets out a sound to allow them entry. He'd meant to say something, but all that came out was a hoarse sounding grunt instead. He coughed and cleared his throat as the door swung open.

It was Aelita.

She peeks at him past the edge of the door and flashes a small smile at him. He returns it with a tired one of his own as she then hurries into his room, carrying a small paper bag and what appeared to be a thermos. She sets them both down on the table by his bed, then sits down on the edge of his bed in her usual spot. He flashes her a confused look.

"You missed breakfast again," she says as an explanation. His eyebrows shoot up and immediately he whirls around and looked up at the window above him. A few streams of sunlight are peeking in and hitting the back of his desk. He looks at the time on on his screen.

8:05 AM

Oh...

"I hadn't even realized it was morning," he admits after a moment. He wheels his chair over to grab the bag and opens it up; a croissant, of course. He smiles at her as way of thanks, then picks up the croissant and bites into it.

Aelita frowns. "Did you not sleep at all last night?"

Jeremy pauses for a moment in thought. "Well... I did a little," he swallows his bite. "Maybe an hour and a half...?" he guesses. He's fairly sure he's being generous on that estimate.

"You don't sound very sure on that..." Aelita notes. "Was it in your bed at least?"

He doesn't reply, only turns to look away from her eyes. The silence speaks volumes.

"Jeremy..." she sighs, folding her arms across her chest. "This isn't healthy..."

He still can't meet her face as he says "...I know." He flexes his fingers again, and he knows she sees him wince. He finally looks back up at her. "But this has to get done." She of all people knows just how important this work is. He knows she knows that

"...I know," she relents. Her gaze drops to the floor as she fiddles with her hands. "I know it does, Jeremy."

The room falls into silence again, this time only interrupted by the sounds of the paper bag crinkling and the occasional squeaking of his chair. He knows he should probably get a new one; Yumi keeps trying to tell him about one she saw that was supposed to be more comfortable, but he never has really looked into it. He has too much else to worry about.

Aelita breaks the silence as he finishes the croissant. "I know you have a lot of work Jeremy but... maybe it's a good time for a real break?" She stands up from his bed and moves closer to him. "I know Ulrich and Odd mentioned something about some games in the rec room. I think Yumi's going to be there too. It's going to be fun, and I think it'd be good for you if you joined us," She places her hands on top of his own, which are sitting in his lap, and stares into his eyes. "Please, Jeremy?"

A break... When was the last time he really had one of those? Try as he might, he can't remember. Judging by the pleading look on Aelita's face, she can't either.

When was the last time he hung out with these people he was lucky to call his friends? Joined in on their shenanigans, or at the very least watched them play out from the sideline? He couldn't recall, but he knows he misses it. He starts to smile.

"That... that sounds wonderful Aelita-" He catches his computer screen out of the corner of his eye. All the work still sitting there, waiting to be finished.

His smile falters.

"But... I really can't..." He says. He forces himself to continue looking at her.

Her smile doesn't fall like his had, but a look of resignation came over her. Not even disappointment; resignation. Like she knew that this is what the result was going to be even before knocking on his door. She probably did.

"Ok," she practically sighs. She gives his hands a light squeeze before pulling hers back again. "Do you want some help at least? I could stay here and lighten-"

He's shaking his head before she can finish. "No, no, I'll be fine. Just because I'm being a stick in the mud doesn't mean you have to join me." He tries to lighten the mood with a joke.

It doesn't work. She looks down at her boots and plays with the edge of her dress, conflicted.

"Aelita," he calls. Her head snaps up, and he gives her the most genuine smile he can manage. "Go have fun with the others. Don't worry about me; I'll be fine." He assures her. It wouldn't be the first time he's missed something like this for the sake of fighting XANA.

She clenches her fists for a moment, and he's convinced she's going to give him some kind of snarky remark about his work habits again, but she doesn't. She slumps and lets out another sigh. "Ok, fine..." she concedes. "But if I haven't seen you by lunch time then-"

"You can drag me out of here without protest, I promise."

She turns to the door, but then hesitates. "Jeremy, if you need my help at any time then-"

He pulls out his phone and nods at it. "You're just a call away, I know,"

She nods, and then, after one last look back, she opens the door and quietly slips out into the hall, leaving Jeremy in silence once more.

It doesn't last long. He wheels himself back to the space in front of his computer. He stretches his fingers again, once more ignoring the pain, and moves to start typing again. He probably should have accepted Aelita's offer for help, but he didn't think it would be fair to her. It wasn't her fault she was dragged into this mess. It wasn't any of their faults really, except his own. He was the one who turned the computer back on, he was the one that didn't think things through,

He was the one that let XANA back into this world.

And he had to be the one to fix his mistakes.

And the fight against XANA took no breaks.

He winces as he moves his mouse over to the Skid's shield program and tries to ignore the thrum of pain that shoots up his arm as he clicks it. Looking at it he can already tell what needs to be fixed. He sets off again at it, still thinking about everything else he heeds to work on.

So much to do.

Not nearly enough time to do it all.


End file.
